Roy Mustang's Day Off
by ssadropout
Summary: In the non-canon past, 8-year-old Roy Mustang had something better to do than go to school one day, & he had to use his wiles to succeed at playing hooky.


**A/N- **I wrote this for the fma_fic_contest Prompt 68, Blind Challenge, Secrets: "Roy Mustang's Day Off"

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_Roy Mustang knows that the trouble with having secrets is not so much keeping them to oneself as keeping the web of lies that hides them straight in one's mind. One good strategy, he had learned when young, was to keep the lie as close to the truth as possible. That makes it plausible and easier to remember. _

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Eight-year-old Roy Mustang was an intense and independent boy who woke up to the bell of his own alarm clock and prepared himself for school each day. Since Madame and his sisters worked the night "shift," they would usually fall asleep not very long before he had to rise. He didn't mind having to wake and ready himself. It was one of the few times that he had any privacy in Madame's bustling house. His foster mother was strict and his sisters nosy and bossy, so his self-made breakfast was the most peaceful meal of his day. It had taken a while for Madame to be convinced that her boy was reliable about getting himself off to school. For a week or two she had feigned sleep and sent her daughters to stealthily track his movements, but eventually, she trusted him.

And, in general, young Roy Mustang _was_ trustworthy. He liked school, especially his science and arithmetic classes. He also enjoyed reading, even if he _hated_ writing reports on the books he had read. He could have talked about the books for hours, but writing it all down was _heinous_. (He had had to look that word up in the dictionary, and it had seemed to describe the situation perfectly.) So, it had never really been a temptation for him to play hooky. Until today.

_FOR ONE DAY ONLY!_ the posters had read. If he had had the option, he would have waited until the weekend and not cut school. He hadn't bothered asking his foster mother for permission, because he knew what her reply would have been. _ Missing school means missing important information, Roy-boy. The day will come when you will do more learning out of school, but not yet. _So, he had decided that Madame would not know about this excursion. He was going to the university to see the Elastic Alchemist. Roy Mustang was eight-years-old, and he was sure that he could pull this caper off.

He had saved up money that he had been paid for various supplementary chores that he had done for his sisters, and he had accrued enough to afford the carfare and the ticket. He must have daydreamed a little, because he suddenly realized that he was running late. To make up the time, he decided to stop fussing with his flyaway hair.

Roy walked out the front door and toward school. He had decided to take the trolley from Market Street (instead of the street that he lived on), just in case Madame or a sister happened to look out of a window at the wrong time. He had studied maps and knew which trolleys he had to take to get to the campus. When his pal Harry saw him and wanted to walk with him, Roy said that he had an errand to do first and would see him at school.

The trolley trip went well. He had memorized the streets and knew when to transfer.

The university campus was humming with activity. When he asked one of the students the way to the science auditorium, she ruffled his hair, messing it up even more, before indicating the way.

Alchemy was not taught in schools under the university level, but he had chanced upon it in a library book. It had fascinated him so much that he had decided to read every alchemy book in the library (in alphabetical order by author). He didn't understand a lot of it, but what he could understand enthralled him. He had never seen alchemy performed, though. And that was why this program was so essential.

The lecture was amazing! The Elastic Alchemist talked about being a State Alchemist and demonstrated three transmutations. When the lecture was finished, Roy weaved his way down steps and around many sets of legs to where Elastic was conversing with some college students. Roy wanted to ask Elastic how he should go about trying to become an alchemist, but one of the coeds _picked him up_ (he was small for his age) and squealed, "Isn't he the cutest thing?" before he could get his question out. The Elastic Alchemist reached out his chalky hand and tousled Roy's spiky black mop.

Elastic then left the building, and the auditorium emptied. Roy knew when he had to leave the university to arrive home at his usual time, so he set off for the second stop on his itinerary- the university library. It was even better than he had hoped.

At 2:00 he made his way to the return trolley, and he got off on Market Street fifteen minutes before he was due home. He killed a few minutes in a music store after confirming that none of his family was in there. As the kids from school began drifting by, he joined them.

"How was school today, Roy-boy?" Madame inquired when he walked in.

"Good. Fine," Roy replied.

And then, with an odd expression on her face, she asked, "What did your teacher say about your messy hair?"

_Uh, oh._ _Think fast!_

"She didn't say anything about it, Madame."

"You have chalk in it, so you are going to have to wash it tonight!"

_Ugh._ One of the few things nearly as heinous as writing reports was washing his hair. But it was a small price to pay for such a superb day.

Madame watched her son climb the stairs. She hadn't gotten where she was without the ability to read people, and she had a feeling that the boy was hiding something. _Oh, well. Even eight-years-olds have secrets. I'll let it go. This once._

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**A/N-** I imagine Little!Roy in short pants for this adventure.

Thank you for reading. I don't have any plans for any more stories for now. Please review enough to hold me over for a long time! XD

Take care.


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